The Familiar Familiar
by nicevenn
Summary: In which Draco learns that not all seers are frauds, and not all former enemies are as insufferable as they once seemed.


Draco slowed his steps as he neared the shop. Someone was walking toward him down Diagon Alley, and there was no way Draco would allow anyone to see him going in _there_. When the coast was clear, he sped up again. He kept his head low as he opened the curtained door and went inside.

A woman wearing layers of brightly colored shawls stood behind a counter laden with tarot decks and crystal balls of every imaginable size. She smiled at Draco as he entered. "Good evening, dear. How may I help you?"

Draco sniffed the air tentatively. The place reeked of incense and scented candles. He made a mental note to change and take a shower to get rid of the stench as soon as he returned home.

"I was wondering if you would do a reading for me," he said. "A fr—an acquaintance of mine, Luna Lovegood, recommended you."

It was an act of desperation. If anyone had told Draco years ago that he'd be associating with Loony Lovegood and seeking readings on her recommendation, he'd have suggested that person go straight to St. Mungo's. But so much had changed since those days.

Now that the war was over and Draco had served his required hours of community service, he had no idea what to do with his life. No one wanted to hire him. No one wanted to date him. Draco looked forward to each new day about as much as he did to getting a vomit-flavoured Bertie Bott's Bean. If the seer would just tell him that one day things would get better, the temporary loneliness and boredom would be easier to bear.

"You must be Draco Malfoy," said the woman. "I'm Madam Esmeralda. Luna told me you might be stopping by one of these days." She emerged from behind the counter and gestured toward the back. "Come, let us see what destiny has prepared for you."

Draco followed Madam Esmeralda through a tacky beaded curtain and into the back room. Here, the air was thick with the smoke of incense. Draco coughed and wrinkled his nose at the burner as it released the odor in swirling grey ribbons.

"Have a seat, dear," Esmeralda said as she took her place at the round table in the center of the room.

Draco cast a hesitant glance at the tufted velvet seat of the vanity chair. It blended in with the purple and silver theme of the room. Resisting the urge to sneer at the gaudy décor, Draco pulled back the chair and sat down. If this seer was anywhere near as gifted as Luna claimed she was, then Draco was willing to put up with this bit of torture.

"Show me your left hand," Esmeralda said, reaching across the table.

Draco offered her the requested hand. The seer's finger tickled his palm as she examined the lines, her lips forming into a frown.

"You were led down a false path from an early age," she said, her voice lacking the misty tone that Draco had associated with seers since taking Divination with Trelawny. "Now you are having trouble finding your way."

"I'm familiar with my past. You're supposed to tell me about my future," Draco said. He tried to pull his hand back, but Esmeralda kept it firmly in place.

The seer's eyes swept over his palm once more before she released her grip on his wrist. Her disapproving emerald stare seemed somehow familiar, and it opened up a hole in his chest.

"We cannot hope to grow spiritually if we do not come to terms with our past," Esmeralda said.

A muscle twitched in Draco's jaw. He'd spent nearly two years coming to terms with his past. And what had that done for him? Nothing. No one but his parents, Goyle, and perhaps Luna wanted anything to do with him.

"I'm not here for lessons in self-improvement, madam," said Draco. "What I'm interested in are external events in the future, opportunities that might be coming my way."

Esmeralda looked at him for a moment, her lips forming a hard line. "Very well, if that is what you wish."

Draco nodded. "Yes, please." He felt a tinge of remorse, now, for having snapped at the older woman.

Esmeralda pulled a black silk cloth off her crystal ball, revealing the foggy crystal sphere. Draco gazed into its depths as if it would reveal its secrets to him, too. A few seconds later, the seer began to speak.

"Soon, you will be reunited with a young man to whom you owe your life. He will open his heart to you, and you will return his love."

Draco stared at Esmeralda for a moment, taking in her vacant expression as she continued to look into the crystal ball. Then he erupted in laughter. There was only one man to whom Draco owed his life, but he would never open his heart to Draco, and Draco would never love him.

"Is this a joke?" he asked. "Did you even see anything inside that ball?"

Esmeralda refocused her eyes on him; she wasn't laughing. "Do you find my prediction amusing, young man?"

"Very much so. You're obviously a fraud." Draco leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest, watching for her reaction.

Esmeralda gasped and clutched at her chest. "Never in my forty years as a seer has anyone accused me of such a thing!"

"Well, I have," Draco said. "Even that nutcase Trelawney could have made a better prediction than that. I'll bet you aren't even a witch." He pointed his chin at the wand lying near her hand on the table. "You probably can't cast a p spell with that thing, Squib!"

Esmeralda's face had turned to stone. Only her nostrils flared slightly.

Draco sneered, pleased with himself, but the expression vanished when he saw Esmeralda reach for her wand.

"You will learn to respect your elders," she said.

"What are you—?" Before Draco knew what was happening, a blue beam of light encircled him, and suddenly he was sitting on a perch behind bars. He looked down at the barred feathers covering his belly and emitted a screech of dismay. _What the bloody hell am I?_ he wondered. _An owl?_

Esmeralda calmly placed the cloth back over the crystal ball and put out the incense and the candles with a few waves of her wand. When she was finished, she walked over to Draco. He fluttered his wings and gripped his perch, struggling to keep his balance as she lifted the cage. "Have no fear. I'll turn you back just as soon as you learn some manners. How long that takes is entirely up to you."

xoxoxo

"Harry, you can't stay locked up in here forever," Hermione said as she opened the blinds.

Sunlight flooded into the kitchen, making Harry squint and shield his eyes. "I go out."

"Yeah, about once a month when you run out of food," Ron said.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his overgrown hair, wrinkling his nose at the greasy residue it left on his fingers. "I know I should get out more," he said. "It's just so difficult to find the motivation. The longer I stay in, the harder it is to leave." He buried his face in his hands. "The thought of starting Auror training now is just—"

He heard Hermione sit down in the chair next to him.

She placed her hand on his arm. "You don't have to begin Auror training yet," she said. "It'll be easier if you take baby steps, at first. Get out of this flat every once in a while. Go on a date. Ron and I can set you up with someone, if you'd like."

Harry lifted his head and looked at her, not bothering to straighten his glasses. "I've forgotten how to talk to people, Hermione. Every time I leave the house, I worry that someone's going to say something to me, because then I'll have to say something back. And you want me to go on a date?"

Harry was surprised to realise what a recluse he had become. A few weeks of peace and quiet, away from the media and the fawning crowds, were all he'd thought he would need to recover after the war. Then weeks had turned into months, and soon Ron and Hermione and everyone else had resumed their lives, but Harry still hadn't felt ready to face the world. Nearly two years later, he was hiding in his flat as a hermit would in a secluded cave.

"Then come out with Ron and me," Hermione said. "We're going to see a movie tonight."

"Have you ever been to a Muggle movie theatre, Harry?" Ron asked. "They're brilliant!"

Harry slumped in his chair. If he were to go out, he would have to shower and shave and put on proper clothes. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe some other time. I'm not really up for it tonight."

He ignored his friends' exasperated sighs and stared absently out the window, hoping they'd leave him alone. Next time, he would agree to join them.

Next time.

xoxoxo

Draco pecked enthusiastically at the meat in his bowl, thankful that he wouldn't have to exist on a diet of mice and frogs. But if Madam Esmeralda wouldn't let him out to hunt, how was he going to escape and seek help? He'd tried making a racket the previous night, beating his wings against the walls of his cage and screeching, hoping the old witch would get annoyed and let him go, but she had cast _Silencio_ on him and gone back to bed.

They were back in the shop now. Esmeralda was giving a reading in the back room, so Draco was free to eat his breakfast without giving her the pleasure of seeing that he'd become hungry. When he was full, he returned to his perch and began preening. A dull ache was building behind his eyes; apparently owls weren't immune to incense-induced headaches.

The sound of a bell alerted Draco that someone had entered the shop. He turned around to see who it was and squawked cheerfully at the sight of a familiar head of dirty blonde hair.

Luna looked around the shop, and her eyes widened when they landed on Draco in his cage. "Well, hello there!" she said, coming closer.

Draco hooted and offered his neck to scratch as Luna put her finger through the bars of his cage. Now if only he could somehow let her know who he was.

Not a minute passed by before the beaded curtain rattled and Esmeralda's client emerged, followed by the seer herself. Luna continued speaking in soft tones and scratching Draco's head and neck as the client paid, thanking Esmeralda heartily for the reading as she pulled the Galleons out of her purse. _Stupid woman,_ Draco thought, _being cheated and happily paying for it. And why does Luna still come here? She's a Ravenclaw, for Merlin's sake! She should have figured it out already._

"Good morning, dear," said Esmeralda, turning her full attention on Luna as soon as her client was out the door. "I've been expecting you."

"Good morning to you, too," Luna said. "I see you have a new owl."

Esmeralda narrowed her eyes at Draco. "Oh, he's not mine. He just wandered in here yesterday, looking lost and lonely."

Luna's face lit up. "Really? So you're not planning on keeping him?"

"Definitely not," Esmeralda said. "He's an unpleasant fellow, that one."

"I think he's nice," Luna said. She looked at Draco again, biting her lower lip. "May I take him? I know someone who's in need of an owl."

Something in the seer's gaze unnerved Draco as she smiled at him. "Yes, that would work out wonderfully."

_Who is Luna talking about?_ Draco wondered. He wasn't an animal to be passed around from person to person. _Why does Mother have to be in France? With Father in Azkaban, who knows when someone's finally going to realise I've disappeared._

"Excellent!" Luna said. "Thank you so much. I'll take him to Harry right now."

_What? Take me to_ whom_?_ Draco started flapping his wings, throwing himself at the wall of his cage.

"Did you need anything else, dear?" Esmeralda asked. "The owl can wait."

"No, it's alright," Luna said as she gently lifted Draco's cage. "I've been thinking about buying a new pendulum, but there's no hurry. I'll come back another time."

"Tell your friend not to let the owl fly free until they have developed a bond, or else the bird won't return. He enjoys table food, so he won't need to hunt right away."

Luna nodded. "Alright, I'll make sure Harry knows. Have a good day, Madam Esmeralda."

Draco screeched as he felt the familiar pull of Apparition. The situation was spiraling out of control.

xoxoxo

Harry groaned when the doorbell rang for the second time that day. Hadn't he made it clear to Ron and Hermione that he didn't want to go out tonight?

"I'm coming," he called out as he tossed the latest issue of _The Daily Prophet_ onto the coffee table and went to get the door.

His irritation dissipated, though, as soon as he saw Luna standing at the entrance to his flat, holding a giant cage. He hadn't seen her in more than two months.

"Hi, Harry," Luna said brightly.

"Hey, Luna," he said, opening the door wider for her to come in. He looked at the owl that was flapping its wings madly, hitting itself against the bars of the cage as it tried in vain to escape. "I see you brought a friend."

"Actually, he's for you," Luna said as she entered the sitting room and put the cage down on the table. She turned her attention to the owl. "Shh, calm down. Harry won't hurt you." She stroked his wing through the cage.

Harry stopped at the center of the room, as if he'd been glued to the floor. "An owl? For me?"

Luna nodded. "I know you wanted time to mourn Hedwig, but it's been so long, and when I saw this one, I knew he'd be perfect for you."

"Oh."

Harry slowly came closer, looking at the owl. It was brown, with big eyes, a barred belly, and small white spots on its back and wings. "He's beautiful," Harry said, although he wasn't sure he liked the haphazard speckling.

The owl had its back to Harry, but as Harry stepped up to the cage, it turned to face him. The huge eyes had a fierce look about them.

"He's a Spotted Owl," said Luna. "They're native to North America."

Harry saw the owl offering him its neck and smiled. "Hey there, little guy," he said, putting his finger in between the bars of the cage to scratch his new feathered companion.

It was a mistake. As soon as his finger was within reach, the owl snapped at him.

"Ouch!" cried Harry, jerking his hand back. The sharp beak had cut deep into his skin, and blood was now dripping from his finger onto the carpeting. Harry winced as he closed his other hand around the wound to stop the bleeding.

"I can heal that for you," said Luna. She took his hand and pointed her wand at his finger. A strand of green light wrapped itself around the wound like a bandage, and the cut closed itself.

"He needs time to warm up to you," she said.

Harry glared at the owl. "Hedwig didn't need time to warm up to me," he said.

Luna shrugged. "Well, this one does. He seems to have had a difficult past." Her eyes met Harry's. "Like you."

When Harry looked at the owl again, his expression was softer. "Does he have a name?"

Luna shook her head. "Not that I know of. But I'm sure you'll find something suitable."

She adjusted a strap on her shoulder, and Harry noticed for the first time that she was carrying a shopping bag. "What's in there?"

"Vegetables and herbs," said Luna. "I thought I'd cook some soup for you. It's a new recipe I learned. It strengthens one's resistance to fairy enchantment. I think it might help you with your depression if you've been affected by fairy magic."

With a bounce in her step, Luna disappeared into the kitchen.

"I'm not depressed," Harry grumbled as he lifted the cage and transported its fluttering occupant into the kitchen so they could start getting acquainted.

xoxoxo

It was a nightmare. Locked in his tiny prison, Draco had been unable to alert Luna to the fact that he was Draco Malfoy, transfigured into an owl by a psychotic old witch who wanted to play seer and got upset that he saw past the sham. Luna had left with a dreamy look on her face, pleased that she had provided Harry with a new friend and cured him of fairy enchantment. And of course, she had remembered to give Harry strict instructions not to let the owl out to hunt or deliver mail until it had bonded with him. As if that would ever happen!

Potter was as insufferable as ever. No, actually, he was worse. He hadn't stunk back in school, at least not literally. Draco wished the scruffy git would leave him alone and go to bed. All day, Harry had remained within Draco's sight, rubbing the uneven stubble on his face as he pondered ways to earn the owl's trust. And he had never changed out of his pajamas!

Draco looked up hopefully when Potter suddenly yawned, his mouth gaping open.

"Well, I'm off to bed," Harry said. "You should try and get some sleep, too. You've had a tough day."

Potter switched off the lights and disappeared. Draco listened to the retreating footsteps. He would wait until he heard Potter leave the bathroom and get in bed. Then he would use any means necessary to keep the git awake. A few sleepless nights, and even Saint Potter would want this owl off his hands. Unlike Esmeralda, Potter probably wouldn't be able to cast _Silencio_ and return to bed. He'd feel bad for the 'suffering' animal.

Less than five minutes passed before the flat was dead silent. Potter had only been in the bathroom long enough to brush his teeth. _Thank heavens he still does that,_ Draco thought.

He waited a moment to allow Potter to settle in. Then he took a deep breath and, using the full power of his owl lungs, let loose the loudest, longest shriek he could manage. He started beating his wings against the walls of the cage, jumping to the bottom and back onto his perch. His efforts were tiring and painful, but it was the only way to annoy Potter enough to make him release Draco.

The flat shook with Potter's footsteps as he ran back into the sitting room, where he had left Draco, and switched on the light. He was squinting; whether it was because his eyes hadn't adjusted to the light or because he was missing his glasses, Draco didn't know.

Draco screeched again, delighting in the sight of Potter covering his ears.

"What's the matter with you?" Potter asked. "What did I ever do to you? I told Luna you hate me, but she wouldn't listen. 'He needs time to warm up to you,' she said. That's bullshit. You didn't need time to warm up to _her_!"

Draco started screaming and flying around his cage again. He'd had a good reason to warm up to Luna. Out of all the people who had fought on the good side, she was the only one who had expressed an interest in how he was coping after the war. The only one who believed he was worth something. Had the great Harry Potter cared to check up on Draco Malfoy? No! After receiving a package containing the hawthorn wand Potter had once wrestled from him—no note attached—Draco had never heard from him again.

"Stop!" Harry shouted. "I've never met such a horrible bird in my life! You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? I'm just going to cast a silencing spell on you, and then you can continue screaming and bouncing around in your cage until your throat is raw and the feathers on your wings are all bent."

But Potter didn't follow through on his threat; instead, he flopped down on the couch and buried his head in his hands. "Why would an owl would hate me so much?" Potter rubbed his face and looked at Draco through squinted eyes. "I remember someone else who always hated me. You two would get along. You could start a Potter Stinks Club."

Draco screeched.

"Yeah, you like the sound of that, don't you? At least now I know what to name you, _Draco._"

Potter stood again. "Now go to sleep, or I _will_ throw a _Silencio_ at you."

xoxoxo

The next morning, Harry was pulled out of his dreams by a blood-curdling shriek. He sat bolt upright in his bed, wondering if someone was being murdered. Suddenly he remembered that he had an owl now, a terrible thing that seemed intent on making him miserable. But at least the demonic bird had allowed him to sleep through the night.

Another scream pierced through Harry's skull. He groaned and covered his head with a pillow. Thankfully he had cast a silencing spell on the flat before going to bed, so there was no need to worry that the neighbors would call the police.

While the pillow did muffle the owl's shrieking, it also blocked out the air, making it difficult to breathe. Harry tossed it aside and flipped onto his back. Maybe Draco was screaming because he was hungry. It was likely, considering that he had refused to eat anything the previous day.

After a short trip to the bathroom, Harry went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. In the sitting room, Draco screeched again.

"Shut up!" Harry yelled. "I'm making you breakfast."

The screaming stopped. Harry took out a chunk of raw beef and cut some of it into smaller bits. It was the closest thing he had to an owl's natural diet.

When he was finished, Harry went into the sitting room and dropped the meat into Draco's bowl. "Here you go."

Draco looked down at his meal and back up at Harry. He adjusted his wings, as if making it clear that he wasn't planning on touching the meat.

Harry shrugged. "I don't have any live food for you. This'll have to do until I can let you out."

Harry's stomach grumbled. He waited for a moment, to see if Draco would eat, but after watching the motionless bird for about thirty seconds, he sighed and went back into the kitchen to make some eggs and bacon.

The screeching began again as soon as Harry took out the frying pan, but he ignored it as he went about preparing his breakfast. He hoped Draco would start eating while he was away. The incessant squawking, heard above sizzling of the food on the stove, told Harry that wasn't the case. To help block out the sound, he started to whistle a cheerful tune, hoping it would lead Draco to believe Harry was indifferent to his suffering.

When Harry finished cooking, he took his breakfast out to the sitting room. Draco perked up instantly at the sight of the plate, even though the meat still lay untouched in his bowl. When Harry sat down on the sofa to eat, Draco flew onto the wall of his cage.

"Don't tell me you want scrambled eggs," Harry said. "I don't think they're very healthy for you."

But Draco kept clinging to the metal bars, and eventually, Harry relented. "Fine," he said, leaning forward to drop some eggs into Draco's bowl. "I can't let you starve to death. Luna would never forgive me."

Draco gobbled it all up quickly, so Harry added another portion, and they ate together in silence. "You know," Harry said, wiping his mouth with a napkin when he finished, "you're alright when you're not beating your wings and screaming."

Draco sat motionless as Harry slowly brought a finger to the cage. His feathers weren't ruffled; that was a good sign. Harry thought he would finally be able to pet his new owl, but just as his finger came within millimeters of the spotted feathers, Draco snapped at him. Harry had been prepared this time, though, and he withdrew his hand just in time to avoid another nasty bite.

"Bad owl, Draco."

Harry felt his chest constrict as the name left his lips. It had been so long since he'd last seen Draco.

"I don't think I've ever actually called him by his first name," Harry said. "It was always just 'Malfoy.'"

Draco's large, round eyes were focused on Harry's face. It almost seemed as if he was interested in what Harry was saying. That was a ridiculous thought, of course. Harry knew that owls couldn't understand human language. But did it really matter? Draco _looked_ interested, and there were things Harry needed to get off his chest, things he wouldn't dare admit to Ron or Hermione.

"I miss him," he said, furrowing his brow as if he couldn't comprehend his own words. "My life seems—incomplete—without him."

Draco crooned.

"I don't understand it, either," said Harry. He leaned back against the couch and stretched out his legs.

"Boy, he'd really give it to me if he saw me in this state. 'Poor Potter,' he'd say, 'doesn't know he's born.'"

He looked Draco in the eyes as if they were two people having a conversation. "But you know what? It would be just the kick I need. I'd pull myself together and start doing something with my life—just to prove that he was wrong."

Harry tilted his head back against the sofa and let loose a drawn-out sigh. That was all he could bring himself to say about Draco Malfoy at the moment, but there was more, so much more that had been weighing on his mind.

xoxoxo

Potter's therapy sessions had become a daily event over the course of the week. As reluctant as Draco was to admit it, he looked forward to them, and not only because they fed his ego. Potter's musings made Draco think about the dynamics of their relationship in ways he hadn't previously considered. Initially, he had been shocked to learn that Potter still thought about him, and he was pleased to know that he'd played a greater role in Golden Boy's life than he'd thought. Potter had always made him feel as if he was little more than an irritating annoyance, like a mosquito that keeps buzzing around someone's head but won't let itself be swatted. But in fact, he had been much more than that./p

In an unusual and not so healthy way, he and Potter had completed each other back at Hogwarts. Potter had needed someone to drive him over the edge, someone to light his fire. Draco, on the other hand, had craved Potter's attention, even if it had been negative.

Truth be told, though, he hadn't thought about Potter as much since the end of the war as Potter had apparently thought about him. Their petty rivalry had become insignificant when compared to everything else that had happened, to the horrors Draco had gone through while Voldemort had imposed his terror upon the Manor. Draco had learned that there were more important things in life than getting Potter all riled up.

But here they were, reunited again, and suddenly Draco wanted the old Potter back. He had stopped screeching and biting, because that only seemed to suck out whatever sign of life remained within his old rival. Listening had proved to be a better strategy; Potter's eyes lit up whenever he talked about Draco.

Of course, being the sharper of the two of them, Draco had quickly gained an insight into Potter's monologues that Potter himself seemed to lack. There was something that had always fueled their animosity and their obsession with each other, a kind of tension that seemed to be temporarily relieved by spitting insults and fighting. It was what had made it all worth the effort. Draco was just now beginning to recognize it for what it was.

He could still feel it, despite Potter's unshaven face, overgrown hair, and wrinkled pajama pants. That burning sensation inside Draco's veins grew stronger every day. He wanted to be close to Potter, inside him, all over him. The realisation scared the shit out of him, but there was no denying it. He fancied Potter, and he suspected that the feeling was mutual. Even if it wasn't, though, at least Potter seemed to be growing fond of Draco in his owl form.

Now that he no longer had to fear being attacked, Potter was letting Draco out of the cage during the day, though the outdoors was still off-limits. Sometimes Draco would sit on Potter's arm and allow the scruffy man to stroke his back and scratch his head. He enjoyed the affection. In fact, he had grown so used to holding Potter's undivided attention over the past few days that when Weasley and Granger arrived at the flat, Draco felt a surge of jealousy go through his small, feathered body. Potter hadn't even introduced him!

Not that Draco cared to be introduced to those two. That wasn't the point. The point was that Draco wanted to feel like he was important to Harry.

He watched the scene from where he sat, perched on top of the kitchen cabinets. Potter was diving deep into the fridge, looking for something to feed his friends. He hadn't done the groceries since Draco's arrival.

"Don't worry about it," Granger said. "We've already had lunch."

When Potter reappeared, Draco took the opportunity and flew down onto his shoulder. He felt Potter jerk in surprise.

"Blimey, Harry! You didn't tell us you got a new owl," Weasley said.

Harry smiled. "I wanted to see if you'd notice." He rubbed his cheek against Draco's wing. "Luna brought him over earlier this week."

"What's his name?" Granger asked.

When Potter hesitated, Draco nipped his ear.

"Ow!" Potter's covered his ear. "It's Draco."

There was a hint of apprehension in his voice, as if he feared his friends' reactions. Weasley and Granger stared at him with gaping mouths and eyes that threatened to pop out of their sockets.

"_Draco?_" Weasley asked.

Potter nodded. "He was kind of mean when Luna first brought him, so I thought it fitting. And well… I kind of like the name." He brought his finger up to scratch Draco's head. "Draco," he said softly.

Draco felt his tiny heart flutter. He wanted to say "Harry," but all that came out was a low crooning sound.

xoxoxo

Harry watched Draco swallow down the last bits of the leftover pizza he had ordered the day before. It was the last piece of edible food he had. Today he would have to go out and buy groceries. He had barely slept the previous night, kept awake by thoughts of Malfoy. Disturbing images had flashed in his mind: Draco's gaunt, petrified face as Voldemort forced him to torture the Death Eater named Rowle; blood covering Draco's chest as Harry's _Sectumsepra_ slashed through him; Draco, bent over and retching after they had escaped the Room of Requirement.

He had wondered what Draco was up to now, living at the Manor, which no doubt held more terrible memories for Draco than it did for Harry.

_What if I went to visit him?_ Harry had been considering that course of action for a long time now.

Yesterday, he had made the mistake of asking Ron. Now he couldn't get his best mate's words out of his head. "_He'd hit you with the Bat-Bogey Hex. Probably hates you as much now as he ever did. A poisonous toadstool never changes its spots, you know._"

Ron was probably right. And yet, Harry still had hope.

"Do you think he still hates me, Draco?" Harry stared out the window as he spoke. "I'd like to think we've moved beyond that, after all that's happened."

Draco hooted.

Harry turned his attention back to the owl, watching as it preened the feathers under its wing. "I've been thinking of visiting him for a while now. I don't think I'd be welcome, though."

There was always the less direct approach, though.

"What if wrote him a letter? The worst that can happen is he won't respond, right? But how would I send it? I don't have an—"

Draco hooted again, this time more loudly.

"Are you sure I can trust you?" Harry asked. "For all I know, you'll fly right out that window and never come back."

Harry chuckled when Draco turned around on his perch, bent over, and spread his tail feathers, shamelessly displaying his behind.

"Well you can't blame me for asking," Harry said. "We did get off to a rough start."

Harry sat for a few minutes, thinking about what he might say if he were to write to Draco. It would probably be best to keep it short.

"I'll tell you what," he said. "I'll write a letter, and while you're delivering it to Draco Malfoy, I'll go buy some groceries."

Draco turned back around and cocked his head at Harry.

"Is that a yes?"

When Draco clicked his beak, Harry went to his desk and took out a quill and a piece of paper and proceeded to write the shortest letter in the history of the wizarding world.

_Hey, _

_How have you been?_

_~HP_

If Draco was at all interested in talking to Harry, it would suffice. He folded the note and enclosed it in an envelope. Once it was addressed, he went back out into the sitting room and tied it to owl-Draco's leg.

"Promise me you'll come back," he said as they walked over to the window. Draco crooned and clicked his beak.

"Alright," said Harry, opening the window. "There you go."

He watched as Draco spread his wings and flew up into the sky, praying it wasn't the last time he'd see the owl. He had grown quite fond of it.

xoxoxo

Draco started out flying towards Wiltshire, but as soon as he thought Harry could no longer see him through his window, he turned and headed toward Diagon Alley. He had to get Madam Esmeralda to change him back. His mother was probably waiting for a letter and would begin to worry if she didn't receive one soon. And, well, there were things he wanted to do to Harry that his owl form wouldn't allow. His timing was perfect. A client was leaving Esmeralda's shop just as Draco arrived. Draco dove in through the opened door and landed on the counter, careful not to knock down any crystal balls.

"Well, what do we have here?" Esmeralda asked. Like the time Draco had seen her, she was draped with colorful shawls.

Esmeralda untied the letter from Draco's foot. "It's addressed to you," she said, "from Harry Potter."

Draco had expected her to be nosy and read the letter, so he was pleased when she put it down, unopened, on the counter.

"I suppose you're here because you want me to change you back," she said.

Draco hooted.

Esmeralda placed her hands on her hips. "Would you say, then, that perhaps you were wrong, and I do possess the Sight?"

After a moment's hesitation, Draco tapped the glass with his beak.

Esmeralda laughed. "Very well. I will reverse the spell so that you may be reunited with your love. Would you mind hopping down onto the floor? Wouldn't want you breaking the counter when you transform."

She waited until Draco flew down onto the floor and pointed her wand at him. The blue light circled around him again, this time in the opposite direction. Draco felt himself grow bigger as he reassumed his human form.

"Thank you," said Draco, and his words were sincere. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a handful of Galleons. "For everything," he added.

Before Esmeralda could react, he Apparated to the front gates of the Manor.

Draco cursed the anti-Apparition wards as he jogged down the lane leading to his home. The charmed wooden door swung closed behind him, shutting and locking itself with a click. He ignored the house-elves' greetings and questions as he went up the stairs and into his study.

Two envelopes from his mother were lying on his desk. Without opening them, Draco wrote a note to his mother, telling her he was okay and would write a more detailed letter soon. Then he headed off to the owlery.

Loki, Draco's Eagle Owl, shook off excitedly when he saw the envelope in Draco's hand.

"Sorry I disappeared," Draco said as he attached the letter to Loki's foot. "Take this to Mother, yeah? If I'm not here when you come back, I'll be at Harry Potter's flat in London."

Loki nipped Draco's finger affectionately and took off in flight.

After a quick shower and shave, Draco put on some clean clothes, choosing a pair of stone-washed jeans and a black button-down shirt. There was no need to dress up where he was planning on taking Potter. He decided not to slick his hair back, either. If things went as he planned, it would only get mussed up later.

Suddenly Draco remembered that he hadn't read Harry's letter yet. He reached into his discarded trousers and pulled out the folded envelope.

_Hey, _

_How have you been? _

_~HP_

Draco smiled. Harry had never been much for words, had he? But Draco had learned everything he needed to know over the course of the week.

He took one last glance in the mirror and headed outside, where he Apparated to Harry's flat. His legs felt unusually heavy after the pull of Apparition ended. The door stood, imposing, in front of his face. It had all seemed so easy when he was flying and running about in a hurry, but now that he was about to come face to face with Harry, Draco no longer felt as confident.

Gathering up his courage, he pressed the doorbell. About thirty seconds passed, and the door remained shut. Draco rang again.

He waited.

Still no answer.

Maybe Harry was still out. Draco's shoulders sagged as he realised that Harry either wasn't home or wasn't going to let him in. Slowly, he began to walk away. There was a bench outside the building. He would wait there for a while and try again later.

"Draco?"

The voice halted the beating of his heart for a moment. Draco took a deep breath; he didn't want to turn around too eagerly or walk back too quickly.

"Harry."

It was the first time since his transfiguration that he'd seen Harry shaven and wearing proper clothes. The green eyes Draco had gazed into all week were wide in surprise, but warm and welcoming.

"I didn't expect—" Harry managed to say, before Draco gave in to impulse and threw himself at the other man.

Harry stood frozen as Draco pressed their mouths together, and Draco worried that he might have moved too fast. Rather than give up and step back, he continued to lick along Harry's lips, prodding them to open. His fingertips dug gently into Harry's sides, begging for a response. It was pathetic how much the outcome of this moment mattered to Draco, but he couldn't help it. Now that he had come this far, he couldn't pretend he didn't care, that he could ever be happy again if he had to walk away alone.

Slowly, the muscles beneath Draco's fingers began to relax; Harry's mouth softened and his lips parted. Strong arms wrapped around Draco, pulling him closer, pressing their bodies together. Draco moaned as Harry took control of the kiss. The floor seemed to disappear beneath his feet as their tongues slid against each other, every movement sending a jolt of pleasure to his groin. Harry smelled intoxicatingly fresh, like rain-scented soap, and his body was warm and hard against Draco's own.

Harry nibbled Draco's bottom lip and soothed the spot with his tongue before pulling away.

"How did—? I didn't—" Harry said.

_Eloquent as ever_, Draco thought. He leaned in, brushing his lips against Harry's ear. "Poor Potter—" he whispered, "doesn't know he's born."

He pulled back, one corner of his lips twitching as he watched for Harry's reaction. The emerald eyes searched Draco's face. "Are you—?"

Draco nodded.

"But how? Why?"

"I'll explain everything later," Draco said. "Right now, you're coming with me."

Harry closed the door to his flat and took Draco's outstretched hand. "Where are we going?" Draco grinned. "You'll see."

xoxoxo

Harry laughed when he saw that they had appeared in front of Eeylops Owl Emporium. "I don't know about this," he said, feigning a cautious tone. "I seem to have bad luck with owls."

"C'mon," said Draco, gesturing for Harry to enter as he held the door open.

As he stepped into the dark shop, Harry remembered back to the last time he'd been there, when Hagrid had purchased Hedwig for him. He tried to keep his focus on the present, looking from one set of glittering eyes to the next. The owls gazed curiously at Harry and Draco as the pair passed by.

"How about that one?" Draco asked, pointing at a Maned Owl. "Very fitting for a Gryffindor, I'd say."

It was a beautiful, exotic-looking owl, but a different one had already caught Harry's eyes.

"I think I prefer this one," he said, walking over to his owl of choice.

Draco cocked a brow. "The one with all those ugly spots?"

Harry smiled, putting his arm up for the Spotted Owl to step onto. "Yeah, I've grown rather fond of them."

The End


End file.
